


The heart of stone I sometimes get

by orphan_account



Category: Justified
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “The way you’re going on it’s as if you didn’t show up here uninvited in the first place.” Raylan snipes. It could just be him biting back at Tim’s snark, but there’s a question in there if Tim really wants to answer it.
Relationships: Raylan Givens/Tim Gutterson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	The heart of stone I sometimes get

Raylan stands on the porch, whiskey in hand, looking out over the garden. The freshly disturbed ground in front of Arlo’s tombstone is the only visible reminder that he’s six feet in the ground and not rattling around the house. Raylan still isn’t entirely sure how he feels about that. He notices the car coming down the driveway – far too new and sleek to be anyone from Harlan – and snorts. Is everyone really so ready for him to lose it that he’s getting sent babysitters now? He waits for the car to get closer so he can see who drew the short straw He knew Art was worried about him, but Raylan feels his hackles rising at the thought of someone from the office being sent to check up on him. He’s surprised then, when it’s Tim who steps out of the car when it stops. 

“Did Art send you down here to check on me? Because I appreciate him looking out for me, but how in the hell did you get saddled with that task?” Raylan asks. He definitely doesn’t think Art sent Tim (Raylan gages Tim would be at the bottom of that list), but he also has no idea why Tim is here if not because he’s been told to be. Tim completely ignores the question, which means Raylan isn’t getting his answer any time soon, and instead gestures over to Arlo’s final resting place.  
“You feel any better with him in the ground?” Tim asks. It’s not out of sympathy or empathy he asks, both because that’s not who Tim is and it’s not what Raylan wants to hear. Raylan knows Tim feels some kinship over their mutual pieces of shit fathers. He still hasn’t forgotten Tim’s reaction to Arlo slapping him at the VFW hall. Raylan likes to fight his own battles but that hadn’t stopped Tim jumping up, held back only by Art. They’d never discussed it but Raylan knew Tim was all too familiar with the very specific emotions Arlo Givens elicited in his son.  
“Tweaked my shoulder a little actually.” Raylan says, and he finds himself matching Tim’s answering wry smile. He knows Tim won’t push him on it.

Raylan wonders into the house and grabs another glass. He doesn’t bother pouring Tim a drink, just brings the bottle out onto the porch and gestures for Tim to sit. Tim takes up his own glass and tips it towards Raylan before taking a sip. Raylan can smell that it isn’t Tim’s first drink of the day, but then neither is the drink in Raylan’s own hand so who is he to judge. They sit in comfortable silence and sink a few more drinks before Raylan speaks again.  
“Last words he said to me were ‘kiss my ass’. I got a quip for every conversation I have, but in that moment I had nothing.” Raylan knows he has a reputation for being a smartass, has to have the last word wherever he can, and the fact he couldn’t when it came to Arlo is not lost on him.  
Tim mulls this over before saying, “Mine’s was ‘you’re no son of mine’. I didn’t say anything back to him either, and I hated myself for it for a while.”  
Raylan hadn’t actually thought Tim would reply. Raylan had some whiskey and a recently deceased father, and the former was loosening his tongue on the latter. He figured Tim was a good enough person to hear it. “And now?” he prompts, specifically because he hadn’t expected a response. If Raylan finds a thread he’ll pull it, for better or for worse.  
“Shit Raylan, it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference if I had said something. He was a mean son of a bitch long before I came along, he wasn’t ever going to change. The best thing he ever did was die, and I didn’t want that to cause me as much shit as what he did when he was alive.”  
Raylan doesn’t respond to that, because he doesn’t know how to. He doesn’t ask Tim why his father felt the need to disown him in the first place. He does offer Tim some more whiskey from the bottle and that seems enough. 

At some point, the bottles empties and they head inside in search of more. Raylan has left over takeout that he ordered after burying Arlo yesterday, which he graciously shares with Tim. Tim, because he’s an asshole, insincerely thanks Raylan for his hospitality, which reminds Raylan he never got an answer for why Tim was here in the first place.  
“The way you’re going on it’s as if you didn’t show up here uninvited in the first place.” Raylan snipes. It could just be him biting back at Tim’s snark, but there’s a question in there if Tim really wants to answer it.  
Apparently he does, because he puts the takeout cartoon he’d been eating from down on the side and levels Raylan with a serious look he’s never seen from Tim before.  
“I had a friend. From the Army.” Tim’s sentences are clipped. Either he doesn’t know how to say what’s eating him up or he’s filtering out the bits Raylan doesn’t need to hear. “He got hurt. He was in a lot of pain when he came back and he found solace in Oxy. That is a different story though.” Tim stops to fill up the glass in front of him – it’s a lot fuller than the ones before it.  
“What’s this story?” Raylan asks because Tim doesn’t start talking again once he’s had a drink, and there’s that damn thread again.  
“He got shot in the head at his dealer’s place.” Tim says blankly. He barrels on before Raylan can even think of response to that, or at least as fast as his drawl will allow. “The worst thing is I’m kind of relieved. He’d been on and off that shit since he got back. He’d get clean and things would start looking up. Then I’d get a call from the veteran's centre or the hospital because he’d slipped up and he’d go all the way back to square one. Jesus Raylan he’s dead, and I can’t help but feel relieved.”  
Tim is trying to tell Raylan something but he can’t figure out what. Tim’s eyes grow wider as he speaks and it’s the closest to shaken Raylan has seen him. And God doesn’t it make him want to figure out what Tim needs.  
“Tim, why did you come here?” He asks, not unkindly.  
“I’ve felt that relief before. When my dad died. Not in the same way, never in the same way, but the feeling is still there. And I’m willing to bet you’re feeling it too, right now.” Tim still has that slightly wild look in his eyes, but his steps towards Raylan are measured and sure. Raylan swallows slightly. And nods. The minute movement spurs Tim on further, until he’s stood nearly toe to toe with Raylan. Tim’s hand hovers near where Raylan’s is spread on the counter top.  
“Tim, why are you here?” He asks again, but this time his voice is quieter, and it cracks slightly at the question. Tim isn’t touching Raylan, but he’s pressed so close to him. There’s a palpable tension, all coiled up energy ready to spring. Tim hooks his fingers in Raylan’s belt loops, and he doesn’t tug but Raylan is ready to follow him anyway.  
“Make me forget Raylan. Please.” The please is barely audible, but it’s a plea that shakes Raylan to his core and he can’t help rocking forward to kiss Tim. The response is immediate, like Tim has been angling for this since he turned up. Raylan would give him shit for the quiet whimper Tim lets out but he hears a moan he’s pretty sure didn’t come from Tim so he lets it slide. He winds his hands around the back of Tim’s neck and tugs at the hair on the nape, aiming for a better angle. He guesses he finds it because Tim is letting out another whimper, and this one he absolutely cannot ignore.

“Judging by the noises you’re making, maybe we should stop doing this here before you embarrass yourself in my kitchen.” Raylan bites into Tim’s neck. The second he feels Tim’s hands clench up on his back he knows he’s said the wrong thing. “So maybe we should relocate upstairs and somewhere more horizontal.” He punctuates this with gentler kiss to Tim’s pulse point before he draws back. Tim seems to have relaxed a little, but he’s still holding himself a little stiffer. Raylan kisses him again, rubs sweet, slow circles into his neck with his thumbs until Tim seems to have shaken off whatever spooked him. Raylan isn’t sure if it was the mention of ‘stop’ or ‘embarrass’ that got to Tim but this time, he’s not going to pull that thread. Not yet anyway. 

He doesn’t stop kissing Tim, because he finds he really doesn’t want to, as he pulls him towards to stairs. They stumble a few times, mainly because any time Tim tries to pull back to look where he’s going Raylan follows and they’re off balance again. When they do make it to the top of the stairs Raylan directs them to the spare bedroom down the hall where he slept last night. Tim makes quick work of Raylan’s shirt, makes a predictable comment about being good with his hands as he pops the buttons open smoothly. Raylan captures his trigger finger betweens his lips and sucks it into his mouth in retaliation, making an equally predictable comment about being better with his mouth. He’s fighting with Tim’s buttons and he thinks maybe Tim is right about wanting to forget, because he can’t find it in himself to spare a thought for anything outside of this room.

**Author's Note:**

> AKA I'm on season 5 of binge watching Justified and I have a lot of feelings. Mainly about Tim.


End file.
